Chapter Four
"Where to?" asked Solomon, as we exited the building an hour later. He slid a pair of sunglasses on, hiding his beautiful brown eyes, and took the keys from the waiting driver, who nodded at us and walked away. Maddox took the front seat without bending to the time honored tradition of calling shotgun, so I slid into the back and fought hard not to stick my tongue out at the back of Solomon’s head.
The “Blondie” comment still cut deep. Blondes were supposed to have more fun; gentlemen were supposed to “lurve” blondes if Marilyn was right. And here was a Neanderthal who thought my hair color meant I couldn’t compete with the big boys. We’d soon see about that, I decided resolutely.
"My place," I mumbled, my head still ringing with the thought that I was now an undercover operative. Just how cool was that? It almost made up for the heart-stopping moment of finding a corpse, a moment I’d relived in less than glorious detail as I gave my statement. It was almost as good as snuggling up to Adam… Maddox (what did I call him now? I wondered) in a dark closet.
Solomon, clearly the strong, silent type, drove us to my apartment without a word. He didn't even ask where to go, as he zipped through the traffic, ultimately pulling into my driveway and parking beside my VW.
Lily’s car was absent, which was fine with me. How could I explain arriving home with not one, but two hunks? One of whom she already thought I'd spent the night with! Even worse, I had no plausible explanation and I couldn't tell her the truth. I could tell her some brilliant lies though, I thought, mashing my lips together so I didn’t giggle.
I unlocked the door, and both men followed me up. Inside the apartment, they slipped past me, Solomon neatly picking me up and placing me to one side, before they fanned out, checking through every room, opening and shutting doors, their weapons drawn. I must have been sleepwalking before, because the guns made it lethally real now. Not to mention that they thought it necessary to check through my apartment.
This wasn’t a game.
"All clear," said Maddox. Solomon nodded in agreement. "Come through, Lexi."
“What were you doing?" I tossed my keys onto the slim console and followed them into the living room.
"Checking to make sure no one was waiting in your apartment," said Maddox.
"Like whom?" I asked as Maddox raised an eyebrow. "Oh, like someone who wants to kill me?" My voice rose a notch. "Oh dear God, someone wants to kill me!" Perhaps, I really didn't consider my offer to snoop around at work carefully enough.
"Is she going to get hysterical?" asked Solomon, whom we both ignored, though the timbre of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I wasn’t sure what to think of him.
"Adam, Why didn’t you do that last night?” I asked.
“Didn’t need to last night. I got to thinking,” he told me, “whoever deleted your files this morning might realize you copied the files. That's why we can't be too careful." Maddox walked over to the big bay window and looked out, his head sweeping from side-to-side as he surveyed the street below. He turned back to us, looking at Solomon for a moment, who had settled onto the couch and was flicking though my TV guide. "There are two men in a car outside, watching the apartment. They're ours. Is there any other way in?"
I shook my head. "The only other door is downstairs in Lily's apartment and her garden backs onto the other gardens, so there isn't an alley. Only an acrobat can get onto the fire escape from below."
"Good. That'll make it easier to keep watch. Do you have any plans we should know about?"
"Lily will be home soon, then nothing. No, wait..." I rolled my eyes as I remembered I did have plans. "I forgot. I'm going to my parents’ tonight for dinner."
"Are they far?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Good. You should keep up with your usual routine. Maybe I should go with you," Adam mused.
"I can't really turn up at my parents’ with a strange man." Solomon laughed at “strange” then covered it up with a cough. I glared at him. "I mean, I'm already bringing Lily. It would be weird to bring a man they've never heard of before. Besides you're PD and undercover; and my whole family is PD." That statement was close to being literal. My father had retired a few years before. Out of my four siblings, three were currently serving officers. Even my sister-in-law worked dispatch and that was just my immediate family. They could smell a rat at a hundred paces, and probably shoot it dead at fifty.
"I suppose so." Adam sat on the armchair across from the sofa and opened the backpack he carried with him. He spread a thick stack of slim manila files on the coffee table and asked for my cell phone, which I handed over. "I've programmed in our numbers, mine and Solomon’s. You can call anytime,” he said, handing it back. I didn’t think he might go for a “No, you hang up first” type of chat.
"What's all this?" I pointed to the files.
"Our co-workers. There's a short profile on each one featuring their backgrounds, families, hobbies, and other information including their recent bank records. They all seem clean from what we’ve determined. No unexplained large transactions, no unexpectedly lost family members, or criminal connections. You'll need to read all these and familiarize yourself with the histories of the people you work with."
I hovered in the doorway, watching Solomon move around the room, allowing me a better look at him. As he checked the view from each window without a trace of emotion or interest on his face, I checked out his body.
What? I have a pulse and he was extremely nice to look at.
"Why do you need all this information?" I asked Adam as I tore my gaze away. It was like going from chocolate pudding to chocolate cake; the view was just as tempting whichever way I looked! Seemingly satisfied, he returned to the armchair.
"Like I said before, there's a leak in the department. Someone is involved selling information or part of a fraud ring. Greed is our best estimate for motive. Money or blackmail is the most common reason for the average citizen to turn bad, hence the reports on your colleagues."
I tried to imagine anyone in the department trading secrets, or being involved in criminal activity, but it was impossible. They were all so mundanely dull.
"And you don't have any idea who is involved?" I asked. “At all?”
Adam shook his head. "We have ideas, but now that Dean is dead, it's thrown us. It could have even been him, in which case, we definitely need to catch his killers to get to the rest of the ring. Or maybe Dean uncovered something about someone in the department that got him killed. We don't know what information they are concealing or leaking, who's leaking it, or who’s buying it. We just can't get close. Everything points to major fraud, but we don't have enough evidence to narrow down any of our leads just yet."
"But you've got all that spyware on the computers."
"There haven't been any suspicious messages or documents emailed. Nothing is going through the office machines."
A thought occurred to me. "When you joined us and we had that team building day... The one where you confiscated all of our cell phones..."
"We bugged them," Adam admitted without any more prompting. "Recording and location transmitters."
"So you've been listening in on every call any of us made since then?" I paled thinking about my argument with my occasional friend-with-benefits, boy-toy, Mike, three weeks ago when he wanted to come over after a couple of months of no contact. I just wasn't into him anymore, even though it had been fun and he had more than just scratched the itch that needed, um, scratching. Mike became more than a little rude when I suggested we stop... scratching. How mortifying. Still, at least, I had come out of it with my dignity intact. I hoped.
"Yes, and nothing there either. No coded messages or anything suspicious."
"I hate to ask you the obvious, but are you sure the leak is from our department?"
"Absolutely sure."
"Where's the memory stick?" asked Solomon suddenly. The TV guide landed on the coffee table with a resounding slap.
"Sorry, got so
mewhere to be, have we?" I retorted smartly, but he just stared back. We glared at each other, and I was sure I saw the faintest shadow of a smile. It seemed Big Bad had a sense of humor.
His eyes ran over me. "Yes, actually."
"Oh, right." Crap. He probably had to go save the world, or single-handedly take down the fraudsters while Adam babysat me. His tone was clear: I was holding him up. "I'll get it," I said.
The memory stick was exactly where I left it in the top drawer of my dresser in my bedroom, so I grabbed it and returned to the living room less than a minute later. Adam and Solomon were talking in hushed tones, but they stopped when I entered. I dropped the memory stick into Adam's open palm.
"Has this got everything you worked on at Green Hand?" he asked. I nodded and he passed it to Solomon. "Thanks, Lexi. We'll get the team working on this. The reason for Dean's death is in there somewhere."
Downstairs, I heard the door open and slam shut seconds after Adam's phone beeped. "Your friend is home," he said, after checking the screen.
"Was that the men outside?"
"Yes."
“Are they staying?”
“No. They’ll do spot checks.”
"I'm going to go," said Solomon, pulling my attention to him again as he stood and stretched. I expected him to crack his knuckles, but thankfully, he didn't. Instead, he stuck the memory stick in his jeans pocket and strode out of the apartment without a backwards glance.
"Quite the charmer, isn't he?" I said, when the door shut and I was sure he couldn't hear me.
"Solomon's okay, just not the conversational sort."
“Is Solomon his first name or last?”
“Last, I think. Why?”
I shrugged. "No reason. I need to get ready. Can you stay for a while? Or do you have to go?" I suddenly felt nervous at the idea of being in the apartment on my own. Knowing that Martin Dean's murderers were out there was bad enough, but Adam's team being concerned that they might come after me was worse. What if they hadn’t checked the closet properly and someone was lurking on the floor? What if there was a bomb hooked to my oven? Oh God, what if…
Adam took a steady look at the panic creeping onto my face. "I'll stay. Shall I make coffee?"
I remembered last night and pulled a face at him, just to remind him that I was not happy about that. I’d probably never accept a drink from him again. "None for me, thanks. Help yourself. Hey, can I see your badge?”
He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt and pulled out on a chain until his badge appeared. I’ve seen plenty. It was legit.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I flicked through my wardrobe, looking for something nice to wear for my dinner that was warm. It might be summer, but my parents’ house was always cold enough to hang meat. Adam was standing in the hallway, sipping his coffee and asking the occasional question. My work clothes wouldn't quite cut it, so I settled on a knee-length skirt and matched it to a pink top. Smart, but still feminine, and unlikely to upset my mother who had a “dress-nice-for-dinner-or-don’t-eat” policy. I liked eating.
"Maybe I should stay here?" I said, straightening up after I laid the clothes on the bed. "I already got out of work early. I don't want anyone to follow me to my parents' house."
"Remember what I said about being normal. You had plans to go to dinner tonight and you need to stick to them. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that would raise a red flag if anyone is watching you."
“Even leaving work early?”
“As far as anyone knows, we were on a conference call on the second floor all afternoon.”
"Huh. How would I know if anyone is watching me?"
"Most likely, you wouldn't. We'll have a team keeping an eye on you over the weekend. Keep your cell phone with you so we'll always be able to locate you. You don't have to worry, Lexi, I promise." Adam placed his mug on the console and stepped through the doorway towards me. He laid his warm hands on my shoulders. I found myself gazing up at him in a way that, so far, I'd only ever imagined in three very exciting dreams. In every one of those dreams, he leaned down and kissed me. He dipped his head, just as I tipped upwards on my tiptoes, our lips parting as our mouths moved closer.
Then a fist hammered on my door. We flew apart, my heart pounding.
"Lexi? Are you home?"
"Lily," I whispered in Adam’s ear. "Am I home?"
"Of course you are. Go answer the door."
"Be right there," I called, stepping past Adam, whom I was rapidly starting to think of as Maddox now, to take the few paces to the door, then across the hallway to let her in.
"Hello," Lily cooed, her big blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. "I didn't know you'd be home early. Do you want to leave before the commuter traffic?"
"Sure, I guess."
"I'll just go... oh, hello." Lily's eyes widened as I heard Adam step into the hallway, out of my bedroom. Her eyes zeroed in on the casually undone shirt and loosened tie. She brushed past me, extending a hand to him as she flashed “tell-me-everything-later-or-die” eyes. "We didn't meet properly this morning. I'm Lily, Lexi's best friend, neighbor and confidant."
"Adam Shepherd, Lexi's boss," said Adam, his cover firmly in place.
"Hello Adam Shepherd, Lexi's boss." She paused, lips pursed, waiting for him to say something. She had a knack for doing that, and making the silence so uncomfortable that you'd be willing to say anything just so it would stop. Adam, apparently, was a tough nut to crack. "Are you doing some extracurricular activities?" she asked, when he stayed silent.
I rolled my eyes.
"No." But he smiled this time. "We're just going over a few things for next week."
"On two consecutive nights?" Lily cast a glance at me that was full of suspicion. "Lexi is very, very dedicated. Hit me up when you're ready, Lex. I'll wait downstairs." She sashayed out with a flick of her hair.
"She does not believe we're working," I said as I returned to my bedroom closet. I rifled through to find the low-heeled, pink, peep-toe pumps I wanted, my eyes ready for any strange wires or bomb-shaped objects. I found the pumps shoved in a protective plastic box at the back of the closet.
"That reminds me, you need to read the files."
"But there's loads," I pointed out. "It will take me all night to read them and I can hardly take them to my parents'."
"Skim through them later. You can read the rest over the weekend."
"Thanks. And, Adam?"
“Yeah?”
"I really can do this. I won't let you down."